by Sever Bronny
After his eyes swept the prince, Gallows did a double take. “Your Highness—what happened to your face?”
Sydo turned his cheek. “Nothing at all. I am quite fine.”
Gallows grunted, directing his steely-eyed gaze to Augum, Bridget and Leera. “Allow me to introduce our servants. We once had many more, but alas …” He left what happened to them unsaid. Augum remembered crimson-armored warriors hacking away at defenseless villagers in Sparrow’s Perch. Is that what they had suffered through?
“The youngest here is Mandy,” the tall knight said, standing behind a plump girl with reddish-brown hair.
She curtsied, keeping her eyes on the floor.
“I believe her to be fourteen. Is that not so?”
Mandy’s hands writhed. She curtsied quickly. “Yes, m’lord.”
“The next oldest here is Rafinda.” A girl with blonde hair curtsied. She looked to be around sixteen, skinny and with a small nose. She too did not raise her eyes.
“This one here is Mya.” He stepped behind a tall girl that looked about nineteen years old. She had porcelain skin, rosy cheeks, a well-proportioned body, and shiny hair blacker than Leera’s. Mya raised almond-shaped emerald eyes and gave a radiant smile, before lowering them when the older woman scowled.
“She’s so pretty …” Leera whispered.
The butterflies in Augum’s stomach agreed. In fact, she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.
“And the last is our illustrious head maid, Ms. Gertrude Grinds.”
A woman in her sixties frowned in disgust as she curtsied, before Augum realized it was some kind of smile. She had a prudish face with a hawk nose.
“The servants will not interfere in your business,” Gallows continued, pacing back and forth before the staff. “They are here to serve and work.” He turned to the women. “Because of the danger we find ourselves in, you will not be permitted to venture beyond the perimeter walls of the castle grounds.”
Augum felt bad for the servants. Was this their life? It seemed harsher than in the books.
Ms. Grinds gave a stiff curtsy. “Begging your pardon, m’lord, but where will we get provisions?”
“I have discussed the matter with Mrs. Stone and we have come upon an arrangement. She will retrieve food using arcane means and we will pay for it from the royal coffer.”
The prince made a hissing noise.
“Perhaps His Royal Highness would prefer to hunt his own food?” Gallows asked without taking his eyes off the servants. Sydo crossed his arms and muttered something under his breath.
“Now, will that be all, Ms. Grinds?” Gallows asked.
“Not quite, m’lord, there is the small matter of the accommodations.”
“The accommodations?”
“Indeed, m’lord.” She cleared her throat in a delicate fashion. “Well, you see, they are rather …” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Substandard, m’lord.”
“Ah, I see. Perhaps I have been unclear in our predicament. We are only alive and have shelter by the grace of Mrs. Stone. If this displeases you, perhaps you would care to report to the closet Legion constabulary and ask for a new royal station. I am sure they would be more than willing to place your head on a spike.” He glared at her. “Now leave my presence.”
Ms. Grinds swallowed. “Yes, m’lord.”
The servants quickly curtsied and exited. From the hallway, Augum overheard Ms. Grinds doling out duties in angry bursts. He wondered if the women will be sleeping in the servants’ quarters, in that dreary-looking room with the hole in the wall.
Gallows paced to one of the giant marble hearths and began preparing a pipe. “Mrs. Stone is the most gifted sorceress I have ever seen,” he said to no one in particular, tapping the pipe and filling it with tobacco. “She repaired an entire stable before mine own eyes—work that would have kept ten men busy for days in weather like this. She has also healed all our minor injuries. Only Sir Dollard Canes suffers still.” He lit his pipe and shook his head. “I did not know it possible for a sorceress to learn more than one element …”
“Heh heh … she is indeed most gifted, Sir.”
Prince Sydo gave Lord Boron a disapproving look. “She is also the grandmother of the Lord of the Legion. Do not forget that, Lord Moron.”
“Your Highness—” Lord Boron whispered, giving the slightest nod at the doorway.
The prince looked over and seemed to pale a little as Mrs. Stone shuffled into the room.
“Mrs. Stone—please allow me to help you to a chair,” Gallows said.
She swatted him away. “I am no infant, Eldric.” She sat down in the queen’s chair with a groan. When she spotted Sydo in the throne, she turned to Gallows with a sigh. “Please inform your men they are welcome to dine with us this evening. They may occupy quarters on the second floor, though I daresay the rooms are in dire need of a thorough cleaning.”
“The men would welcome a warm meal, Mrs. Stone, and I shall have the servants attend to the rooms.”
Mrs. Stone nodded. “There are also rooms on the east side of the first floor for the servants to use. I fear those shall require more extensive repairs, however.”
“I can set the men to it right away—”
“—I was rather thinking my trio of apprentices could do it, seeing as they need the practice.” Her eyes swept over Augum, Bridget and Leera.
“Those clods are her apprentices?” Augum heard Sydo say in an undertone to Lord Boron, who immediately covered up with a cough.
“Oh yes, we can do it—” Augum said, the girls nodding along vigorously. He was hungry and would have almost preferred to stay and eat a second lunch with them, but the east side was the only part of the first floor they had not explored.
“Then it is settled.” Gallows took a seat to Augum’s left. “Now, let us discuss the finer details with regards to the defense of the castle and the tasks needing completion in the days ahead.”
“May we be excused, Mrs. Stone—?” Augum asked. The last thing he wanted to hear was boring talk about maintenance and work when there was adventure to be had.
“You may, but before you go, know that I expect the three of you to practice all four of the spells you have thus learned. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Mrs. Stone.”
“They know four spells already?” Sydo whispered to Lord Boron.
“Apparently so, Your Highness.”
Sydo promptly stood up. “What about me? I demand to come along!”
“Surely repair work is below the prince’s station,” Mrs. Stone said.
“Heh heh, it most certainly is,” Lord Boron said. “We need to discuss the prince’s accommodations, as well as other particulars of note.”
“Yes, there is much to discuss, Your Highness,” Gallows added, biting his pipe.
Sydo gave the trio an envious look before plopping back down in defeat.
“Now, as far as castle provisions are concerned …” Gallows began, but Augum, Bridget and Leera were already out the door and rushing down the hall.
A Secret Message
“Ugh, what a brat,” Leera said as they descended the steps.
Augum nodded as he pawed the banister. “Imagine if he’d come along …”
Bridget trailed last. “I think he should have been allowed to come.”
Leera stopped suddenly on the landing between the first and second floor. “Are you crazy?”
“I just … I kind of feel sorry for him, that’s all.”
“You feel sorry for him? He called us gutterborn, Bridge.”
Bridget winced at the word. “I know, but he can’t help himself. He wasn’t brought up right, that’s all. I’m sure he’s a good person inside.”
Leera gave Augum a look as if Bridget had completely lost her mind. “I … I don’t even know what to say, Bridge.”
Bridget exhaled a long breath. “Just forget it. Here, let me try this—” She withdrew the map, placed it on the ground, and held her hands over it.
“Apreyo.” For a moment, nothing happened. Then a wrinkled piece of parchment fluttered out from under a covering of dust, re-attaching itself to the map.
“And just like that she’s partly redeemed!” Leera said with a sly smile. “But how did you know?”
Bridget shrugged. “Just guessed.” She examined the map and frowned. “It’s not the piece we need though; we’re still missing this one near the wall which should tell us where the passage starts.”
“Good idea anyway, Bridge, let’s keep it up,” Augum said. “Let me try next.”
They traded the map and practiced the spell as they descended. When they reached the foyer, they lit their palms and passed through the east doors for the first time.
Pieces of broken furniture, straw, mud, shards of glass, parchment, and other refuse littered the corridor.
Leera kicked a scorched wooden crate out of their way. “We’ve certainly got our work cut out for us. Some of this stuff’s burned, so we can’t even repair it.”
“It’s almost like something went on a rampage here,” Bridget said.
Leera pointed upward. “Maybe it was the prince when they refused him sweets.”
“If there’s anyone who can’t get enough sweets, it’s you.”
“I make no apologies.”
The trio did a bit of exploring before setting to work. There were seven small rooms and one larger room, each windowless and with a thin door. Augum guessed the larger room was for the head maid.
They began with the obvious—furniture and walls. They had little trouble using telekinesis on small objects; it was the larger ones that required all their concentration. More often than not, they had to tackle them together, as with the castle entranceway. Repairing steadily became easier with practice, especially once they found their rhythm. Someone would occasionally have a go at the map as well, though to no avail. At other times, they would try their hand with the Unconceal spell, which still gave them the most difficulty. They chatted as they worked, about Prince Sydo and the formal way he spoke; about Sir Gallows and his pipe; and about the servants and what kind of lives they led.
Augum recalled Mya’s almond green eyes and that radiant smile. He wondered which room would be hers.
“They’re just lucky Mrs. Stone gave them these rooms instead of the big communal one,” Bridget said, inspecting a repair they had just performed on a door. “Otherwise they’d have to sleep beside each other.”
Leera made a face. “I’d rather sleep in the crypt than beside Gertrude Grinds.”
Augum deposited an armful of broken furniture parts. “Mrs. Stone once said that if I don’t progress in degree, I could always push rocks around or become a servant. Is that what warlocks do when they hit the ceiling?”
“Not at all,” Bridget said. “Every occupation you can think of has warlocks in it. They’re not very common, of course, so are always in demand. Apprentice warlocks can even earn a wage working in a regular profession. But high degrees are extremely rare and very expensive.”
“So imagine a potter shaping pots with the earth element,” Leera said.
“Or a cook warming bread with the fire element—”
“A shoemaker—”
“—I get it, thanks.”
“Right.” Leera tapped her lips. “I wonder how far the servants got with their degrees …”
“Or if they even had the chance to study,” Bridget said. “Most people grow up like you, Augum, hardly knowing much about the arcane path.” She held her hands over the wood he had brought. “Apreyo.” Wooden spindles began attaching themselves to a seat; soon a chair stood before them.
Leera sat on it. “And most of those that do study don’t even get beyond the first few degrees.”
“I think everyone should have the chance to try,” Bridget said. “All those villages where they don’t even believe in arcanery … how many more kids could be going to academies?”
Leera shrugged. “Chair’s fine—next item.”
While the girls bantered on, Augum cast Unconceal for at least the tenth time that morning. He held his palm before him like a sensing rod. Settling into the spell, he suddenly felt a peculiar tug he never felt before. He slowly followed it, careful to keep focused. The source was a burned-out bed in the corner of the room. He slid underneath its charred frame.
Leera broke off what had turned into a heated conversation over the point of a warlock ox herder. “Find something, Aug?”
His focus shifted only a moment, yet that was all it took for the subtle pull to disappear. “Think so, hold on. Shyneo.” His palm lit up electric blue, making the bottom of the bed visible. He pawed around until his fingers closed over a burnt piece of parchment stuck between the slats. He removed it and sprang to his feet, beaming.
“I’m impressed,” Bridget said. “Well open it up, let’s see what it says—”
Leera crowded close, one hand on his shoulder, other on Bridget’s. “Might be another treasure map …”
“That’s the first time the spell has worked for me,” he said, carefully opening up the charred parchment while Leera and Bridget leaned in.
It was a letter. The portion that stuck out from the slats had burned off, but the rest was still readable. They read in silence.
… and in all haste. We have been unable to breach the castle’s secrets. We tried everything known on the fountain, yet still it refused to yield. As for the scion, we conclude it does not reside within these walls. Unfortunately, we ran out of time. She came and the castle opened for her like a flower. Its defenses are fearsome to behold and as sinister as your justice.
Alas, she comes! I now must attend to my final duty.
I sign with the hopes of incurring a swift death rather than suffering eternal damnation in undeath for having failed you, Lord Narsus.
The signature was burned away, but that did not matter.
“Darkest damnation,” Leera said. “Narsus …”
The trio glanced at each other.
“Think the woman it’s talking about is Mrs. Stone—?” Bridget asked, re-reading the parchment.
“Don’t know,” Augum replied. “I’m curious about the fountain part—entry to what?”
“Oh, the map!” Bridget retrieved it from her robes. They crowded around her. “You think the passage starts from the fountain?”
Leera shook her head. “The only thing is that the walls are a bit rocky; and that high up in the castle—? Seems kind of unlikely, don’t you think?”
Bridget frowned. “I don’t know …”
“Guess the only way to know for sure is to find the last piece of the puzzle,” he said.
Bridget swept a lock of hair with an ivy-laced palm. “I agree—let’s redouble our efforts.”
“At least now we know why there’s a torture room,” he muttered.
“They must have tormented people in the hope of learning about the scion and the fountain,” Leera said.
“—and it didn’t work,” Bridget added. “I wonder why a scion was supposed to be here though.”
They examined the letter again.
“Well whatever secret that fountain is hiding must be very important,” he said, pocketing the letter. “Can’t wait to find out what it is.”
Leera flashed a competitive grin. “Golden find, Aug—my turn to find something next!”
They continued with the repairs. After much toil, Bridget and Leera extinguished their hands and plopped down on a repaired bench.
Augum slumped against a wall, head throbbing and stomach churning from the arcane effort. Nonetheless, he kept his hand lit for them. He glanced about and smiled. Not only had they repaired every salvageable piece of furniture in the rooms and hallway, but all the doors and walls too. The only thing left to do was remove the burnt wood.
“Wish we had an hourglass,” Bridget said with closed eyes. “Think supper is almost ready?”
Leera rested her head on her knees. “Hope so.”
Bridget turned to Augum. �
��You know, this is far more practice than you’d get in school.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely, arcane school is much more about theory than practice.”
“Oh, didn’t realize. Hey, mind if I extinguish too?”
Bridget shook her head while Leera only moaned. He doused his palm and the three of them rested in pitch-dark silence until someone knocked on the foyer doors. The trio dragged themselves up, lit their palms, and went to see who it was.
When Augum opened the door, he saw two almond emerald eyes staring at him. Surprised, he just stood there gaping. Leera finally nudged him and he reddened, stepping aside to let Mya slip through the door.
“Thank you,” she said, holding a candle that allowed the trio to snuff out their palms.
Leera made a grand gesture at the hallway. “Welcome, Mya. Come to inspect our work?”
“Indeed yes.”
Augum felt his stomach flutter as she smiled. All he wanted to do was spend time with her and ask her questions about herself. What kind of person was she? Where did she come from?
“Ms. Grinds would like to know if the rooms are ready.” Mya’s rosy cheeks shone against her porcelain skin and jet hair.
“They are,” Bridget said. “Only the burnt wood needs to be removed.”
Mya waved a delicate hand. “Please don’t concern yourselves with that. I’ve come to tell you supper will be served shortly.”
Leera licked her lips. “Good, cause we’re starved.”
“Ah, here comes the inspection,” Mya whispered, gracefully turning to the sound of footsteps from the stairs.
Ms. Grinds glided down the stairs pinching her dress. “Well, girl, how does it look?”
Mya curtsied and dropped her eyes. “Begging your pardon, m’lady, I haven’t had the chance to look, however the children report the work is complete.”
Children? It was like a kick to his stomach.
“We shall see then, won’t we?” Ms. Grinds, wearing a perpetual frown of disgust, stopped a short way down the hall and snapped her fingers. “Come along now.”
The trio and Mya hastily followed.
